Texture Tactics

As evidenced by the pages on this Journal, I have very eclectic taste in fashion, and while I would never wear an outfit like the above day-to-day (it’s far too costume-y), what I do like about it is the contrasting textures. As visually appealing as they are though, the real experience is tactile.

Even when colour is minimal, interest can be created with a judicious mix of fabrics and textures. Here herringbone tweed contrasts with various types of lace: butter-soft leather gloves with lace cutwork (amazing!), a Battenberg lace parasol, and crocheted lace inserts in the cotton dress. A blue satin sash adds colour and a sensuous shine against the tweed.

Tactile fabrics are of course always more appealing when they are made from natural fibres. They drape beautifully (think of a genuine silk compared with a cheap polyester fabric), and they also breathe better, keeping you warm in winter and cool in summer. Invest in them and your sense of style will benefit too.

Big Hats for Little People

I never imagined this red velvet 1920s hat would be so versatile when I bought it. It’s a cloche. It’s a Phrygian cap. It’s a gnome’s sugarloaf. And I don’t mean a miniature sweetbread baked by apple-cheeked little girl gnomes – the sugarloaf is anything but petite.

A sugarloaf is simply a pointed hat, and such headwear has been worn by a wide variety of cultures – including the gnomic of course – throughout history. It has landed atop the heads of whirling dervishes, been a travelling cap in Ancient Greece, a 15th century Burgundian noblewoman’s headdress of choice, a samurai’s ceremonial hat, the chapeaux of aristocratic kazaori eboshi, a dunce cap (because it stimulated learning in the 14th century), and the anointed, pointed sugarloaf of many a religious figure, from popes to Ottoman Janissaries.

And today it’s a gnome’s hat. How appropriate that it came from a milliner in Convent Garden.

In my research on girl gnomes I came across innumerable grotesqueries and countless kitsch tchotchkes, so here I am redressing the balance and shooting for cute. The silk embroidered blouse is vintage 1940s; the hat and apron are both relics of the 1920s; the 90s taffeta skirt comes out of my costume box (finally it has a use!); and the tooled red leather slippers are souvenirs I bought in Morocco. Cute, and just a little bit sweet.

Time to Bye

For everything there is a season: there is a time to buy new shoes (ie, all the time), and a time to say goodbye. This autumn I sighed over my adored little ballet flats. There was no way around it. I had to face facts. They were trashed, completely and utterly.

And when it comes to trashed shoes, I am utterly ruthless. Though they served me well in their time – so soft and comfy, so ladylike and elegant – and made my feet look quite petite, these Supersoft walking shoes by Diana Ferrari were truly on their last legs.

Early one morning I took them out of the house, and tenderly placed them amongst the autumn leaves shed by the great elm above to capture their last moment of glory.

And then I threw them in the bin.

I already have their replacements, two pairs of suede Mary-Jane flats, one black, one red. Stay tuned. 

Whatever Happened to the Spencer?

Once upon a time, in the Regency period, the spencer was a woman’s short jacket worn over the long empire-line gowns of the era. Day dresses, particularly for younger women, were usually made from white muslin or other light colours, and the spencer added some colour – as well as warmth – to the ensemble. They often featured puffed shoulders as well as decorative trim in the form of braid or tassels, or intricate detailing in the fabric such as pleats, gathers or ruffles.

Hat from Naples split on the sides. Spencer in velvet with bursts in satin. Dress has flounces.A cream spencer gorgeously edged in black and trimmed with tasselsMy herringbone patterned spencer is by Catalan designer Celia Vela, and is part of a suit. It is an unusual hybrid, featuring an Oriental neckline and closure (those little buttons are a right pain to fasten and undo), but it has puffed and gathered sleeves rather than puffed shoulders in the Regency manner. It was those sleeves that sold me when I saw it in a boutique in Sitges, Spain.

A modern day equivalent to the spencer would be the Spanish bolero, which is most often buttonless and worn open. This more formal and tailored jacket should not be confused with a shrug, or short cardigan, which is typically knitted.

But today there still exists a spencer, in the form of a warm knitted undergarment – that may or may not be matched with that very elegant piece of lingerie, the longjohn. The woollen spencer allows one to wear skimpy clothing in the depths of winter, and is thus a very useful garment to have in one’s arsenal.

For all its brevity my little woollen tank spencer has its own charms, does it not? I did own, once upon a time, a matching long sleeved spencer – the perfect length of the three-quarter sleeves kept it safely out of sight when worn under tops – but it has long-since gone to the Great Tailor in the Sky. I had black and white versions with both long and no sleeves in fact, but only this black tank survives.

Strangely, these versions of the spencer are difficult to find today, which is a pity, for they would prove extremely useful to those pretty young things who insist on gallivanting about on freezing Saturday nights in inappropriately flimsy garments.

What I Actually Wore #0081

Serial #: 0081
Date: 08/08/2012
Weather: 16°C for Cold, very windy and miserable
Time Allowed: 15 minutes

Pants are great for lazy winter days when tights seem too much maintenance, but it’s all dependent on mood, which persona I’m channeling that day. This looks a little bit like winter land girl, with tweed trousers, a cosy cardi, and flat beribboned brogues.

The orange cardigan is by Anthropologie, and I bought it on eBay. At the time I couldn’t decide whether to buy the warm grey version, or the burnt orange and I finally went with the bright pop of colour. Occasionally I wish I had chosen otherwise, as this winter I have gone back to an old love: shades of grey (somewhat less than 50 at a time). As the trousers are wide-legged and loose, I added a double belt for some definition at the waist.

I am wearing a rather eclectic collection of jewellery: my leather necklace knotted with wood and glass ‘beaded beads’ that I hand made myself; my charm necklace and Turkish coin earrings; and the two rings I always wore stacked – the onyx, and the silver concave ring. Sadly I have since lost the silver ring because it slipped off my finger one day walking to work!

The punctured leather brogues I also bought online in a sale store, with the deliberate intention of discarding the boring shoelaces and threading ribbon through the eyelets – not an easy task. I do love that look though – it’s also very land girl: your shoelaces broke? Make do and mend with an old hair ribbon.

Items:

Knit: Kookaï
Cardigan: Moth for Anthropologie
Pants: i67
Hat: Melbourne boutique
Belt: Alta Linea
Earrings: from Palm Beads
Necklace: handmade and collected
Rings: souvenir, Roun
Shoes: Urge